


Capitulation

by DaronwyK



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark Hermione Granger, Dubious Consent, F/M, Sane Tom Riddle, Slytherin Hermione Granger, Time Turner (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-07-28 23:47:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20072605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaronwyK/pseuds/DaronwyK
Summary: With Voldemort dead, Light has triumphed over Darkness, but the losses are too great. Hermione goes back in time to change things and falls under the spell of the very wizard she just helped to destroy. Can she change him and the future, or will she make things even worse?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Usual Disclaimers all apply. Not my characters & certainly not making any money. 
> 
> Cross Posting from FF. This will be a dark fic. This will not be a sweet, romantic story. We're talking violence, adult content, character death, dubious consent, possible non-con. Readers, Ye Be Warned.

**T*R*T*R*T*R*T*R*T*R*T*R*T*R*T*R*T*R***

_I’ve always been a hunter_

_Nothing on my tail_

_But there was something in you_

_I knew could make that change _

_~Karliene – Become the Beast~_

**T*R*T*R*T*R*T*R*T*R*T*R*T*R*T*R*T*R***

Hermione looked at the devastation around her. So many dead, so many families torn apart. Voldemort was destroyed, but they’d laid waste to their own world to do it. Harry was dead, the Weasleys were trying to deal with the loss Fred, and little Teddy Lupin was an orphan. She walked away from the carnage in the Great Hall and climbed the steps, finding herself standing in front of the rotating staircase that led up to the Headmaster’s office. It was open, as if waiting for her.

She mounted the steps and entered the room, spotting an open door at the back of the office, a sliver of light beckoning to her. She pushed the door open carefully and saw the most curious thing. It looked like a slightly different time turner to the one she’d had back in 3rd year. There was a note with it.

_If the end is to dark, best to alter the path. There will be no returning from this endeavor. 53 and a half turns should do the trick. Have on you what you require and be prepared for what lies ahead. Goodbye Miss Granger. Might I suggest engaging this in the corridor outside the library? _

Just touching it, she could hear the Headmaster’s voice wrap around her and it brought tears to her eyes. She knew what she had to do. Her feet took her up to the Prefect’s bathroom, the door opening for her as if the castle sensed that she was on a mission. Once inside she set the bath to filling, and rummaged through her tattered beaded bag, pulling out her school trunk. She pulled out one of her uniforms and laid it out, slipping out of her muggle clothes. She sank into the water and scrubbed off the blood and dirt that layered her skin, thinking about everything. She had to prevent this from happening, but the time line would be altered, which meant she could never return. She’d have to live out her life in the new timeline and this world would cease to be. The thoughts were running through her head, but she just felt numb inside.

Once she was clean, she dressed in her uniform needing to use a couple of alterations spells to take it in. She’d lost a fair bit of weight over the year on the run. She needed to find Riddle and either change his plans or kill him. She found her book bag and put a couple texts in, and tucked everything else into her beaded bag and stuffed it into the leather book bag. She looked in the mirror and shook her head. She looked like a school girl again, save for the haunted look in her eyes. She put the time turner around her neck and went down to the Library, standing in the hall way as she started counting her turns. At the end she hesitated…had she done 53? Or 54? No, she’d done 53 like she’d been told. She did one half turn more.

As she released it, the world blurred around her in a dizzying parade of years, children changing but the rhythms unaltered. Time flowed around her like water, when suddenly it stopped. The dark hallway lay quiet around her and the time turner began to smoke. She took it off and frowned as it disintegrated in her hands.

“It’s well after curfew.” A voice came from behind her.

Hermione turned, eyes widening at the tall, dark haired student standing behind her. “What….what happened? Who are you?” she said, deciding it was best to claim this had been an accident. The boy walking towards her was undeniably handsome, but he moved with a sense of contained malice.

His eyes narrowed in the moonlight. “I don’t know you.” He cast a silent lumos and it was clear he was evaluating her. “Identify yourself.” A shining prefect’s badge glittered on his chest.

“Hermione Granger. I was heading to the library and something hit me from behind…” She looked around, as if trying to figure out what had happened. She was not prepared for the strange boy to hit her with a full body bind. She fell backwards, head smacking on the stone floor.

“Let’s figure out who you really are, shall we?” The dark haired boy smiled then, and levitated her up, moving through the hallways to an unused classroom.

Hermione was panicking, she’d never seen a picture of Tom Riddle but there was something about this boy that made her blood run ice cold. She watched and realized he was warding the room, setting silencing spells. He knelt beside her and plucked her wand from her pocket and slipped it into his. She fought against the spell but it was too strong. His hand smoothed a stray bit of hair off her face.

“Pretty thing aren’t you, mudblood by the sound of your name.” He sneered and then pointed his wand at her and whispered, “Legillimens.”

Hermione felt him force his way into her mind. She’d never learned to occlude, there had always been other things to worry about. He ransacked her mind, delving deep into everything. He lingered here and there, seeming to savour certain memories. She fought him as best she could, but every time she struggled trying to push him out he’d punish her, twisting something in her mind that sent pain searing through her. She could hide nothing. She’d tried to come back and stop him, only to fall right into his hands. She felt something hot and wet streaming down her face, distantly she realized her nose was bleeding. Then suddenly the presence in her mind was gone and he released her from the body bind.

Hermione rolled over, after just lying there dazed for a long time, getting to her knees unsteadily. A handkerchief was abruptly thrust into her hands. She pressed it to her nose to staunch the bleeding, unable to account for the small courtesy. Her head hurt so much that she felt queasy, the stone seeming to spin under her.

“I’d accuse you of manufacturing those memories, but you’ve no talent for it.” His voice came to her, cutting through the pounding in her head. “All my great works undone, by mere children,” he said quietly, feet sounding on the stones as he walked, pacing angrily. 

Hermione finally managed to look up at him. “Not just undone, destroyed,” she said, chin lifting a bit in defiance. If she was going to die here tonight, she wouldn’t grovel.

“From your memories it wasn’t just me that was destroyed,” he said and turned those black, pitiless eyes on her. “You’re a clever thing, so I assume you can understand your situation. No one knows you’re here, that you even exist. I could kill you right now and no one would ever be the wiser for it.” He stroked his fingers along his wand, as if trying to decide just how to end her life. “If I let you live, you’ll belong to me. You will do what I say, when I say and you will help me make sure that the future you’ve shown me tonight never comes to pass. It’s your decision mudblood, and I don’t particularly care which option you choose.”

Hermione removed the bloody handkerchief from her nose and considered. She didn’t want to die, but serving him, doing his dirty work…she didn’t know if she could. “I won’t help you kill muggles and muggleborns,” she said, tears stinging her eyes. She knew the second she began to bargain with him that he’d won.

“Perhaps that doesn’t need to be necessary, this time,” he said. “Your choice, Miss Granger? I don’t have all night.” He stroked his wand while he looked down at her.

“I’ll agree to your terms,” she whispered, tears falling down her cheeks. The weight of the last 24 hours hitting her like a brick wall. She just couldn’t fight any more.

“When we are alone, you will address me as ‘My Lord’,” he said darkly.

Hermione felt bile rising in her throat. “Yes…my Lord.” She managed to choke the words out, shoulders slumping down. When he stepped forward and offered her a hand, she looked distrustful of it, but took it and stood shakily. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“Hold still,” he said and cast a gentle cleaning spell to remove the blood from her face and clothing. “Now, I’ll need to take you to the Headmaster. You will tell him there was an accident, you were walking to class and someone must have been practicing a dangerous charm. You were caught in the blast.” He grabbed her robe and deftly tore the sleeve. “Your name is Hermione Granger, but you are a half-blood. Your mother was a witch, pick a name so long as it’s a good family. You’re starting your sixth year.” He cast a fire spell, just enough to singe her robes and then extinguished it. “You are a Slytherin.” His transfigured the crest on her robes with an easy wave of his hand.

Hermione was feeling off balance but nodded. “Yes, my Lord,” she whispered, knowing somehow that failing to use his title would be a very bad thing. She was unable to help the instinctive flinch as he touched her face.

“That’s a good little witch.” He smiled charmingly. “Do what I tell you and I’ll make sure you’re protected. After all, what you’ve shown me will prevent me from making foolish errors. Such a gift should be treasured.” He continued to stroke her face, examining every inch of her. “If you breathe a word of any of this to Dumbledore or anyone else…it will take you a very long time to die. Tell me you understand.” His thumb was stroking along her bottom lip.

“I understand, my Lord.” She met his eyes and felt another tear slide down her face. What had she done?

He gently wiped it away. “Good. Now, let’s go and see Headmaster Dippet.” He slipped her wand back into her pocket, cancelled his wards and then wrapped an arm around her. “You’ll be all right, little witch,” he said soothingly and led her back out into the hall and guided her through the darkened school.

“What is this, young Tom?” A voice stopped them as they approached the Headmaster’s office. A younger Horace Slughorn appeared, taking in the strange witch tucked under his Prefect’s arm.

“I found her collapsed outside the Library, Sir. We need to take her directly to the Headmaster and summon Madame Tillsby, I think she may need healing,” Tom said, sounding very concerned.

“I’ll take the young lady up to see that Headmaster, you fetch Madam Tillsby. There’s a good lad. Come my dear, it’s all right.” Horace gently eased her out of Tom’s arms and guided her up to the headmaster’s office. “What’s your name child?”

“Hermione Granger, Sir,” She said as she watched Tom run down the hall, ostensibly to get the school nurse. She was quiet as they rode the spiral staircase up to the Headmaster’s office and went directly inside.

“We have a strange situation, Armando. Can you tell me how you came to be here tonight?” He asked, getting her inside and nodding to the Headmaster, who came out of the back room as he heard them enter. 

“You poor thing, set her down here, Horace.” The old wizard came forward and helped guide the shaky young witch to a chair. He looked frail but there was a fierce intelligence in his brown eyes.

“I was heading to the Library to study and there was this explosion…the next thing I knew I was lying on the floor and that boy, Tom he said his name was, was leaning over me, asking me if I was all right.” She touched her head, it was still throbbing. “I know you, Professor Slughorn…but I don’t recognize anyone else. What year is this?” she asked, looking very frightened.

“What year do you think it is?” Horace asked.

“1996,” she said, keeping to the lie that Tom had insisted upon. “I was just starting my sixth year.” She swallowed, looking at the Professors as they exchanged looks.

“My dear, I’m afraid it’s October 3rd, 1943.” The Headmaster said very gently. “If this was the result of some bizarre magical accident, it’s unlikely that we will be able to return you to your own time.”

Hermione closed her eyes, just letting all the emotion of the last 24 hours hit her, tears coming without much trouble. “But my parents, my friends…” she whispered, her words catching in her throat.

“I am very sorry my dear.” He patted her hands. “We will, of course, do everything we can to help you. Ah, here is our nurse, Madam Tillsby,” he said as the kindly matron swept in.

“Give the poor girl some space,” the woman said, her manner reminding Hermione very much of Madam Pomfrey. She shooed the Headmaster and Potions Professor back from her chair. “Now let me have a look at you dear.” She checked her for injuries and clucked her tongue here and there, while Headmaster Dippet spoke in hushed tones with Professor Slughorn. “Well, it seems you have some not so mild magical exhaustion, which makes me think that your magic is responsible for all of this. Likely protected you by flinging you back into the past.” She surmised.

Hermione’s eyes flicked to Tom, who was standing there quietly against the far wall. “I suppose that makes sense. I do have a terrible headache,” she said shiver at the grin that crossed his lips, hidden from all but her.

“Here…” She opened her emergency kit and handed her a slender bottle. “Drink this, it should help. More than anything I think she needs some rest, Headmaster. I’d like to take her to the infirmary so I can keep an eye on her.”

“Perhaps she’d be more comfortable down in the dorms, Headmaster. She’s had quite the ordeal, familiar surroundings may be more what she needs,” Tom interjected smoothly.

“Yes, familiar surroundings are just the thing, good thinking my boy. Why don’t you escort Miss Granger to the dorms, I’m sure the Castle can add a bed to the girl’s dorm for her,” Horace said.

“If it hasn’t already, Hogwarts always knows what its students need,” Dippet said sagely. “After breakfast tomorrow if you’d be so kind as to escort her back here Tom, and we’ll get her class schedule sorted out, and get her properly added to the register,” he said to Tom.

“Of course Headmaster. Miss Granger?” he said charmingly and took her book bag for her, looking for all the world like a solicitous young wizard.

“Thank you, Mr. Riddle,” she said and stood, going with Tom, heart pounding a little as they descended down towards the dungeons. As they turned down a corridor, Tom took her arm in a tight grip and spun her, her back impacting the wall with a dull thud. She sucked in a sharp breath.

“A touching performance,” he said. “Now, since you were a Gryffindor this is going to be hard for you. You’re in Slytherin House now, you will need to be quiet and observant. You’ll defer to me, and I’ll make certain the others treat you with respect. You do not want to stand out here, any more than you already do.”

She nodded. “I was only in Gryffindor because I told the hat to put me there,” she said, rubbing her arm where he’d grabbed her. “It actually debated for a while between Ravenclaw and Slytherin.”

He snorted. “A mudblood in Slytherin…how ridiculous.” He sneered.

Her jaw tightened and she had to bite her tongue to keep from tearing into him. “Shall we continue?” she said primly.

“After you.” He gave a mocking bow and they continued down the dark corridors. He stopped in front of a stone wall and whispered, “Alihotsy.” He said and the stone melted away to reveal the entrance.

Hermione entered, carefully hiding her interest as she flicked her eyes around the room. The light from the lamps gave a green cast to everything and there was a fire crackling merrily away in the hearth. She saw a few students scattered around the room on leather couches, a pair of older boys were playing a game of wizard’s chess. As they entered, everyone’s eyes turned to fix on her. She schooled her features, aware they were sizing her up.

“Who’s this then, Tom?” A lanky boy stood and strode over. He was of a height with Tom, inky black hair brushing high cheek bones.

“Hadrian Nott, may I present the newest member of Slytherin House, Miss Hermione Granger.” Tom made the introduction smoothly.

“Granger?” The boy raised an eyebrow, giving her an appraising look. His tone telling her that he knew she was no pure-blood.

“I’m a Half-blood,” she said, meeting his eyes boldly, daring him to say anything.

“She’s the victim of a rather spectacular magical accident,” Tom said, getting in the middle of their conversation before it devolved. “She is a member of our house, but from the year 1996,” he explained, and watched as their eyes widened, taking her in with new appreciation.

“Who were your year-mates in Slytherin?” Hadrian asked.

“Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass, Millicent Bulstrode, Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, Vincent Crabbe, and Gregory Goyle,” she said smoothly, leaving out Tracey the half-blood. She was already putting the future into the blender, might as well go for broke.

Hadrian nodded politely. “Won’t you sit down, Miss Granger?” He offered her his hand, cool hazel eyes on hers.

Hermione politely took his hand and let him lead her over to sit in one of the chairs. “Thank you. I apologize if I come across a little blunt, it’s been a long night.”

“I imagine. Would you care for some tea? I’m sure we can convince the elves to bring us something,” Hadrian asked, sitting across from her.

“That would actually be lovely,” she said, relaxing into the chair and trying hard not to feel like a mouse that had been dropped into a viper’s nest. It was eerie how much this boy looked like Theodore. He was just a little more handsome, his features not as pinched. His lips were fuller and seemed to exist in a state of perpetual smirking. The very bold eye contact was different too. Theo had always been rather reluctant to engage with much direct conversation. 

Tom sat down on the couch, sprawled elegantly. “Let me make some introductions. These are two of your new dorm mates, Constance Fawley and Adelaide Yaxley.” He nodded to two pretty blonde girls who had come over. “Ladies, this is Hermione Granger. I trust you will make certain she feels welcome.”

“Of course Tom.” Constance smiled at him. “We’d be happy to.” She and her friend settled down on the couch, but gave Tom some space.

“You’ve met Hadrian, over there is James Rosier and Marcus Avery…you’ll find them playing chess most nights.” The two in question were frowning over the game. “And over in the corner there is Renaud Lestrange.” He nodded to a boy sitting in the far corner at a table, books and notes scattered around him. “Don’t ever get between him and his research, he’ll hex first and ask questions when he’s done reading,” he warned.

“I consider myself duly warned,” she said and smiled as tea and a few plates of biscuits appeared on the low table.

“How do you prefer your tea, Miss Granger?” Hadrian asked the girl.

“Just a little honey and milk.” She watched as he made the cup up for her and handed it over. “Thank you.”

“So, I’ll just get this out of the way so that no one feels the need to be rude about it. Who are your parents?” Riddle asked her.

“My father is Thomas Granger, he’s a muggleborn and is a potions researcher. My mother is Amelia Urquart. They were both in Ravenclaw, and married after graduation,” she said politely. She knew there had been an Amelia Urquart, she’d seen the name once while researching something from the Marauder’s school days.

“How did you end up in Slytherin then?” The other girl, Adelaide asked.

“My love of knowledge was less for knowledge sake and more for what it could get me.” She shrugged. “The hat dithered and decided Slytherin would benefit my ambitions.”

“I wonder how you being here will affect the timeline,” Tom mused aloud. “Just meeting all of us could drastically alter future events.”

“I imagine it will,” Hermione said quietly.

“It must be frightening, to suddenly find yourself alone without your friends or family,” Hadrian said sympathetically, but there was an undercurrent to his words. 

“Daunting might be a better word. I don’t scare easily,” she said, avoiding Tom’s piercing gaze. “But yes.”

“Where’s Harriet?” Tom asked Constance.

“Still patrolling, she should be back soon. She mentioned something about ruining some ‘Puff’s night.” She grinned.

He nodded. “We’ll introduce you to everyone else in the morning, and I imagine the Headmaster will make a short announcement.”

“What Newts were you taking?” Adelaide asked politely.

“Charms, Defence, Transfigurations, History of Magic, Potions, Herbology, Astronomy, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, and Care of Magical Creatures,” she said, listing them all off. She’d dropped Divination and Muggle Studies after third year, deciding they weren’t worth her time. 

Tom’s eyebrows lifted. “That’s even one more than Renaud.” He looked strangely interested. “What were your Owl Scores?”

“Nine O’s and one E in Defence. It’s never been my best subject and we’d had a horrid string of teachers.” She made a face. Her DADA OWL score had always bothered her.

“If you want to ace your Defence Newt next year you should join the study group,” Hadrian said and subtly looked to Tom.

“We’ll see if she fits there,” Tom said quietly.

Hadrian nodded, letting it be.

Hermione watched the byplay and just helped herself to one of the biscuits. As she finished her tea, Constance stood.

“Let’s head up to the dorm and get you settled,” she said to the other girl.

“Sure, sounds good.” She picked up her book bag. “Goodnight,” she said to the boys, who nodded politely.

“Sleep well,” Tom said, holding her eyes for a moment.

Hermione swallowed nervously before falling into step with Constance. The other girl walked ahead and they entered the 6th year girl’s dorm. There was, as the Headmaster had predicted a bed waiting for her. She set her book back down and took off her robes, setting them aside and looking with a frown at the tear in the sleeve.

“You’re about my size,” Constance said and went to her trunk taking out a folded pair of soft cream pajamas. “You can borrow these.”

“Thank you, you’re a lifesaver,” she said sat them on the edge of her bed, realizing that to convince everyone that this had been an accident she’d need to buy all new things, and how would she even do that?

“I’m sure Professor Slughorn will be able to help you purchase some new things,” Constance said, able to see the other girl’s worries.

“It’s not just that, it’s all my books and notes, all my things…it’s all gone,” she whispered quietly.

Constance went over and took her hand. “It’ll be ok…you’re a smart girl, you’ll land on your feet.” She squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Besides, you’re very pretty and some rich wizard is going to snap you up quick.” She winked at her.

Hermione blushed darkly.

“Just be careful around Hadrian, he’ll take advantage if he thinks he can,” she warned. “A well placed stinging hex is usually enough to warn him off if he gets a little pushy. But we do assign bonus points for inventive hexes.”

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.” She was put in mind of Cormac. “I’m just going to get cleaned up and changed,” she said and headed into the bathroom that the four girls would share. Her initial reaction was that it was MUCH nicer than the bathrooms in Gryffindor tower. There was a dressing table with a padded bench and a pretty privacy screen. There were two shower stalls and a toilette closet off to one side. She washed off her face, finding a little blood that Tom’s spell had missed and she went behind the privacy screen to change. She frowned as the neckline of the pajamas dipped a bit low over her cleavage, showing the top of her scar that Dolohov had given her. A quick glamour hid her ‘mudblood’ scar, it was small enough that no one should notice. The Dolohov scar however….that was too big to conceal regularly. Someone would notice the glamour.

She came out and unclipped her hair, letting it fall around her shoulders. She turned around, jumping a bit as she realized Constance was sitting at the vanity, watching her. “What’s that scar from?”

“Dark curse. I got into a duel with someone beyond my level and they weren’t exactly playing fair,” she said.

Constance’s eyebrows lifted. “I’m assuming you don’t glamour it because it’s large?”

Hermione nodded and traced her finger from the tip of the scar that she could see, down her body to where it rested against her hip. “It was a pretty nasty recovery actually. I’m lucky I survived it.”

She nodded. “You’ll have to tell me the story sometime, when you’re not reeling from getting hurled back in time.”

“Connie!” A voice called from the main room.

“We’re back here Hattie!” Constance said.

“So they weren’t pulling my leg.” A shorter, heavier set girl came in. She had a slightly round face with a pleasant smile and red curls framing it. “Sorry I wasn’t here to greet you properly, I’m Harriet Rosier…but please call me Hattie.”

“Nice to meet you Hattie, I’m Hermione Granger. My friends call me ‘Mione.” Hermione managed a smile.

“Well if you need anything at all, please let us know,” she said. “I imagine that right now what you really need is some sleep.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty exhausted actually,” she admitted.

“We’ll size one of my spare uniforms for you until you can get your own,” Constance said as the girls headed back into the dorm.

Hermione fell into her bed, utterly exhausted. She pulled her curtains closed and cast a quick privacy spell and laid back. She looked at the wand in her hand and scowled. It was Bellatrix’s. It still fought her, but with its Mistress now dead it seemed to be accepting that it was hers. Her new Dorm mates seemed very nice, but Tom terrified her. There was nothing at home in his eyes…a true deep darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

T*R*T*R*T*R*T*R*T*R*T*R*T*R*T*R*T*R*

_You'll never know what hit you _, _Won't see me closing in _

_I_ _'m gonna make you suffer _

_This hell you put me in, I_ _'m underneath your skin_

_~The Devil Within – Digital Daggers~_

T*R*T*R*T*R*T*R*T*R*T*R*T*R*T*R*T*R*

Tom laid back on his bed, curtains drawn and warded. His carefully laid plans now suddenly scattered to the wind by the arrival of the mudblood with wild hair and expressive eyes. Her mind had been a beautiful thing; raw, unmoulded, but oh so brilliant. Her memories revealed just how unique she was, a rare gem in a sea of coloured glass. She was an invaluable resource and if properly managed she could be an incredible asset to him. He’d brought her down to the dungeons to keep her close and under guard. He didn’t want her under Dumbledore’s far too insightful gaze. No, better to brand her a snake and make the man dismiss her out of hand.

He replayed some of what he’d taken from her mind, a battle with his followers in shadowy place deep within the Ministry. He saw her fall to a vicious curse, witnessed her slow and painful recovery. He knew without ever having to look that she wore the scar of that attack on her skin still. More recently she’d been tortured by a witch named Bellatrix. She had been so exquisite in her pain, but she’d held true to her friends. So much loyalty, if only he could win it from her. Through everything there was a burning need to prove she was better than everyone else, that she deserved to be here. That she was just as much of a witch as any pure-blood. It was a massive flaw in her character and he’d enjoy exploiting it for his own ends.

She was afraid of him, and it was a heady thing to not have needed to do anything to inspire that fear. The moment she’d figured out who he was, the fear had poured from her skin like the sweetest of perfumes. He’d wished he could have had more time to explore the depths of that fear, but that would need to wait for now. When they had privacy and time he could really delve into that fear. He’d make the case to Dippet to keep her as a prefect, maintain her ability to move about the school more freely and possibly position her as Head Girl with him next year. If she was anywhere near as brilliant as he suspected, she’d dazzle them this year.

He’d need to dissect everything she’d shown him, discuss it with her and figure out how to alter his aims to get what he wanted. He’d need to send a note to Abraxas, see about getting the girl set up with some proper funds…a reward for doing what he wanted. He needed to convince her to not just obey him, but want to please him. He’d also need to find her somewhere to stay this summer. She was technically an adult so the Ministry couldn’t force her to do anything, but she was a young woman out of her own time and without any money of her own. He’d see how she got along with Constance this year, since the most appropriate situation would be with one of the other Slytherin girls.

Dumbledore was a problem; that was now perfectly clear. The knowledge he’d pulled from her head about Dumbledore and Grindelwald, now that was interesting. He could destroy the man’s reputation before he ever became headmaster here. He’d let him face his old friend and defeat him, since having Grindelwald in power was problematic for him, but afterwards he’d eviscerate Dumbledore’s character and drive him from the halls of power. He grinned and closed his eyes, new plans starting to swirl in his brain, better paths to power.

T*R*T*R*T*R*T*R*T*R*T*R*T*R*T*R*T*R*

Hermione went to breakfast with Connie, wearing one of the girl’s uniforms. It was slightly different than the uniform of her time, a tailored grey blazer worn under her robes. The Slytherin girls moved together as a unit through the halls and joined the rest of the students at their table. It was fairly early, only seven in the morning, but most of their house was seated at the table, having their meal. Hermione nodded to Tom as they sat down near the one end of the table. The years were grouped together, the seating much more formal than she was used to with the Gryffindors.

“Come sit beside me,” Tom said, nodding to the auburn haired boy beside him who shifted over instantly. That had to be James Rosier, Hattie’s twin.

“Good morning,” she said politely as she sat down.

“Sleep well?” he asked, passing her the pitcher of juice.

“Yes, I did.” She poured herself some pumpkin juice and helped herself to toast and eggs.

“That’s good to hear,” he said and once she had her food, he started introducing her to the 7th year students, stressing a couple of them more than the others…like a haughty witch named Walburga Black. She looked at Hermione like something foul she’d scraped off her shoe, but at Tom’s pointed look she was at least polite. He then turned to the Head Table and went through the different professors and what they were responsible for teaching. When her eyes flitted over Dumbledore he leaned closer, lips brushing her ear. “Don’t ever fully meet his eyes, he uses casual Legillimency on students,” he warned.

Hermione swallowed and nodded slightly. “I’ll remember.”

“Good.” He moved back slightly, but stayed very much in her personal space. “When you meet with the Headmaster it would do well to enquire about also taking Alchemy. We had just enough interest for the course and an added student would balance the group out well,” he said. That would align her schedule almost perfectly with his, other than Care of Magical creatures. He’d seen no point in pursuing that.

“I’d wanted to take it in my time, but only two other students were interested so we were told that was insufficient.” She sighed remembering her own disappointment with that.

“There are eleven of us who banded together to get Headmaster Dippet to arrange the class.” Tom smiled a little. “You’ll likely be with the Headmaster through most of first period, but after break we have Runes,” he said to her. “Then we have lunch, Arithmancy, and Potion’s theory.”

“You break up theory and practical for Potions?” She arched an eyebrow.

“Yes. We do the same for Defence class,” he explained.

“We just have a double period for them both,” Hermione said and wondered when and why that had changed.

“Seems odd. You need a solid basis in theory before you attempt anything…at least most of these idiots do.” He lowered his voice a little to avoid anyone hearing them.

She nodded, seeing the sense in it. Once they were done eating, she saw the Headmaster walk up to the podium.

“May I have everyone’s attention?” His voice carried through the room, and everyone fell respectfully quiet. “Now, as some of you may have noticed we have a new face at the Slytherin table. Miss Granger was the unfortunate victim of a magical accident, and it triggered a temporal event which sent her here. I would ask that everyone be respectful of Miss Granger’s privacy, as tampering with the timeline is always unwise. She has been placed in Slytherin house and will continue her education here until such time as we are able to send her back to her own time. Thank you, and I wish everyone a pleasant week.”

There was a lot of quiet muttering as he stepped away from the podium and more than a few looks tossed her way. Tom stood and offered her a hand up, escorting her from the Great Hall as the Headmaster left as well.

He left her at the statue. “Galatea.” He spoke the password and the statue move, revealing the staircase for her. “I’ll see you in Runes.”

Hermione nodded and went up the steps, trying to keep herself together. Sleep and a good meal had helped settle herself. She had wanted to change things, well…things were certainly changing. She went to the door of the Head Master’s office and knocked politely.

“Come in Miss Granger,” Headmaster Dippet called. “Please take a seat.”

Hermione entered and shut the door behind her. She walked to the chair in front of the Headmaster’s desk and sat down.

“I hope that you managed to get some rest last night?” Headmaster Dippet asked, taking in the young witch. She seemed much more composed.

“Yes, Headmaster, I feel much more like myself this morning,” she said.

“I’ve informed the Ministry of what happened, and they’ve sent a few forms for you to fill out just so there is a record of the accident. When is your birthdate Miss Granger?” He asked.

“September 18th Sir, I’m 17,” she said, knowing that made things somewhat simpler because by wizarding law she was an adult.

“Good, good,” he said and made a notation in a leather bound book. “Now, which classes were you taking for your Newts?”

Hermione listed them all off. “I’d also applied to take Alchemy, but in my year there were only a couple other students interested. I understand from Mr. Riddle that there is a class on offer for the subject this year,” she said.

“You don’t feel that 11 Newts is too much to take on in addition to orientating yourself in a new time?” he asked gently.

“I’m quite certain I’m up to the challenge, Sir.” She smiled. “I think it would actually be to my benefit to keep busy, and help keep my mind of more troubling matters,” Hermione said softly.

“Very well, though if you find yourself struggling with the course load I would recommend you meet with your Head of House to discuss dropping a subject or two,” he said. “Now, I am certain you will encounter a fair number of differences from your time to now. I assume that I am not the Headmaster you remember.”

“No Sir, Professor Dumbledore was my Headmaster,” she said.

“Then I imagine there was a certain…laxness to the rules,” he said. “You will find I am strict, but fair Miss Granger. I insist that all of my students observe proper decorum both inside the classroom and out of it. Now I believe I saw a prefect’s pin on your robes last night, is that correct?”

“Yes Sir, I was a Prefect.” She nodded.

“I see no reason to remove that honour from you, so just this once, Slytherin will have three Prefects in one year. I imagine Miss Rosier and Mr. Riddle will appreciate the assistance. I will reiterate that I expect my Prefects to set the example for their fellows. While you are not bound to curfew, I expect that this is a privilege that you will not abuse. I restrict my Prefects point deductions to no more than ten points for most infractions. For anything you feel more serious, or warranting a detention, I encourage you to escort the student in question to either myself, or one of the Heads of House. Prefects will maintain good grades, and if they do not I have no compunction in revoking that status.”

Hermione nodded seriously. “Yes Sir, I understand completely.”

“Now there is a school fund available for students in need, and I have authorized Professor Slughorn to make a withdrawal from that fund for you so that you may purchase school supplies. You are to see him after classes today to discuss arranging a trip to purchase your things,” he said kindly. “My door is always open if you have need of guidance, or if there are any questions that you feel you need answered.”

“Thank you Headmaster, I appreciate it.” She gave him a smile.

“Here is the 6th year Newt Schedule, I’ve stroked out the classes that do not apply to you. These are also the forms the Ministry needs you to fill out, I will need them back by the end of the week.” He handed it to her. “Good luck Miss Granger, and as always the staff is here to assist you in whatever way we can.”

“Thank you Headmaster.” She took the schedule and nodded politely. She tucked the papers into her book bag and headed out of the office. A quick tempus let her know she had about an hour before her next class. She headed down the hallway and paused by one of the windows, resting her forehead on the glass.

“Are you quite all right, Miss Granger isn’t it?” Albus Dumbledore appeared beside her.

She looked up. “Professor…yes, I’m fine just trying to process everything that’s happened,” she said, careful not to look directly at him.

“Are you certain you’re all right? It would be quite understandable if you were not,” he said, trying to catch her eye.

“I’m just…out of place at the moment. I imagine in time it will get easier.” She turned her eyes to look out the window again. “My housemates have been most welcoming, I don’t know what I’d do without Tom and Constance.”

“Take care around Mr. Riddle…he is not all he appears to be,” Albus said in a warning tone.

She mentally apologized for what she was about to do. She sighed. “At least some things haven’t changed…” She shouldered her bag. “Tom has been nothing but helpful and kind. I’m not about to repay that compassion with suspicion,” she said. “I appreciate the concern Professor, but I don’t feel it’s warranted. If you’ll excuse me Sir, I need to go and find my next class.”

“Five points from Slytherin for cheek, Miss Granger.” Albus narrowed his eyes, but let the girl go with a nod thinking he’d need to watch her very carefully as well. Her protectiveness of Tom was troubling.

Hermione gritted her teeth and walked away, heading to where the Runes classroom had been in her year. She’d just been borderline rude to Dumbledore. It went against everything she’d ever espoused to believe, but it wasn’t avoidable. That he’d taken points for that shocked her. She’d heard Harry be much ruder to the man and he’d only ever smiled and nodded…as if he approved. To have him take points just because she was in Slytherin aggravated her endlessly.

She frowned as the classroom she’d taken runes in since 3rd year sat, covered in a layer of dust. She swore, stupid for thinking all her classes would be in the same rooms. She headed for the third floor to wait for everyone coming from Defence. While she waited in the hall for them she went into her bag and pulled out her prefect’s pin and fastened it to her robes with a smile. At least she got to keep it. She pulled out Bellatrix’s wand and did some easy charms with it, getting used to the feel of it in her hand. It still fought her, but would bend to her will if she was forceful enough. Each spell got progressively easier as she kept pressing it to obey. As the door to the classroom opened, she slipped her wand away.

“All go well with the Headmaster?” Tom asked, coming to stand with her.

“Yeah, I get to keep my Prefect status. He’s allowing me to continue with all my classes and attempt alchemy,” She said. “I figured I’d wait here for you, since I’m not sure where the Runes classroom is in this time.”

“Happy to show you,” he said, walking with her as a few students headed down the hallway in the same general direction. They headed down a hallway that in her time was unused and he opened the door for her. “You can sit with me and Renaud.” He nodded to a desk on the left side of the classroom. The studious Slytherin from the Common room last night was sitting there and gave her a quick appraising look before nodding.

“If you need you can copy my notes from the previous classes,” Renaud said.

“Thank you, I’ll take you up on that,” she said and sat down between the two boys. There were a fair number more students in this class than in her own time. She could spot five Gryffindors, two girls and three boys, easily nine Ravenclaws and three Hufflepuffs. They were the only Slytherins. She smiled as Tom shifted his book to share with her and Renaud offered her a spare quill and some parchment.

Class was a lecture and she took notes, trying to ignore the hand that Tom placed on her knee, his hand resting against her stockinged leg, thumb tracing a circle on the outside of her knee. She was impressed that her hand never wavered, and she kept her shock and discomfort off her face. She was grateful when the class ended and he withdrew his hand, putting his book and notes away.

“Thanks,” she said, offering the quill back to Renaud.

“Keep it, you’ll be needing one,” he said and stood. “Meet you down at lunch?” He flicked his gaze over to Tom, arching an eyebrow as if he’d known exactly what Tom had been doing under the table.

“Yeah, we’ll be along shortly.” Tom smirked a little. The room emptying out quickly as everyone hurried off to lunch. Professor Norquez nodded to them as he hurried out the door, to put his books in his office. “Did I make you uncomfortable, Hermione?” he asked once they were alone, stepping into her personal space and trapping her against the table.

”You know you did,” she answered, heart beating quickly. She lifted her chin a bit, not letting him bully her. Not this time.

“I’ll touch you whenever I please, though that was for Renaud’s benefit. Trust me, you don’t want the others to think you’re fair game. I’m marking you as mine and to do that I need to be seen to be possessive.” He tucked a strand of hair that had escaped her bun behind her ear. “Now, why did you look annoyed when we left defence?”

“Professor Dumbledore warned me about you, and I may have been a bit short when I told him you’d been nothing but kind. So he took points.” She said, looking down at his chest while he touched her face.

“Good, he’ll treat you like any other Slytherin and keep you at a distance.” He brushed his lips against her cheek. “You did well,” he whispered and moved back.

Hermione swallowed and pushed away from the desk. He scared the shit out of her, even as he drew her in. “What do you want from me?” she asked, risking a look at his face and wishing she hadn’t. He looked almost hungry.

“Everything,” he said quietly. “For now though, let’s go to lunch before anyone notices we’ve lagged behind too far.” He gestured for her to walk ahead of him.

Hermione shoved her discomfort down and walked with him, making it look like she was completely relaxed at his side. While a part of her wanted to run to Dumbledore and tell him everything, she knew he couldn’t protect her and there was no guarantees that telling him would change anything. Many of Dumbledore’s actions had led them to the state they’d found themselves in. She couldn’t trust him now and with Tom seemingly stuck to her side, she had little room to do much other than try and influence *him*. Was he capable of friendship? Would having a friend change him? Would any of this matter? Her questions plagued her mind all the way to the Great Hall.

T*R*T*R*T*R*T*R*T*R*T*R*T*R*T*R*T*R*

She knocked at Professor Slughorn’s office, grateful for five minutes peace from Tom. She heard him call her inside and she entered, flashing him a smile. “Good Evening Professor Slughorn.” She said. She had just seen him in class for her first potion’s theory lesson and had dazzled the man with her knowledge beyond the course material.

“Good evening Miss Granger, please come in and sit down.” He gestured to the comfortable green armchair in front of the fire. “I must say, I was most impressed with your answers today in class. I hope it’s a glimpse of future performances.”

“My parents always insisted on academic excellence, Sir,” she said, accepting a cup of tea.

“Well…given your class schedule I assumed as much. Very ambitious my dear.” He chuckled. “You will of course let me know if you find it all a bit too much I trust.”

“Of course Sir, I’ll come to you with any problems I have.” She said.

“Wonderful, now as I understand it you have your last period free tomorrow. If you feel up to missing History of Magic, I can take you to Diagon Alley directly after lunch to purchase what you need for classes.”

“I’m sure I can manage to miss a lecture on the Goblin wars.” She chuckled a little. “Just this once.”

“Good, now while there is a fund set up for students in need, you will not be needing to avail yourself of it. One of our alumni has decided to be your ‘sponsor’ as it were. He asked that I give you this letter to explain.” Horace handed her an envelope with some weight to it.

“Sponsor me? How does he even know?” She stopped realizing it was a silly question. Tom. She opened the letter and a small golden key fell out.

_Dear Miss Granger,_

_Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Abraxas Malfoy and we have a mutual friend in the form of Tom Riddle. He explained to me the extraordinary circumstances regarding your appearance at the school last night. Given your affiliation with our house, and the fact that you find yourself here quite alone and friendless, I feel it is my duty to extend a helpful hand. The key I have enclosed is to a vault I have placed in your name. It has modest funds and I expect you to make full use of it, both for school needs and anything else a young lady might desire. I will replenish it as needed, and look forward to making your formal acquaintance at some point in the future. _

_Most Cordially, _

_Lord Abraxas Malfoy _

“Professor Slughorn, I couldn’t possibly accept this,” she protested.

“It would be considered most rude to reject his gift, and I can assure you that Lord Malfoy has no ill intentions,” Horace said to reassure her. “He did quite a bit for Tom as well, once he finished school and came into his inheritance. Slytherin always takes care of its own.” He patted her hand. “Best to write him a pleasant reply and thank him. The most he’ll expect in return is the favour of a dance at the Yule ball.”

“Yule ball?” She looked surprised.

“That’s no longer a tradition at Hogwarts in your time.” He looked quite surprised.

“No…I’m afraid not,” she said.

“Well, the Hogwarts Yule ball is open to Newt students, recent graduates and Ministry officials. It’s the social event of the year for many.” He smiled. “It’s an excellent opportunity for the older students to network and be introduced to the right people.”

“I can hardly wait.” She tried one of the biscuits. “I suppose that means I’ll need dress robes.”

“Indeed, a trip to Twillfit & Tattings is certainly called for,” he said. “You should make a list of what you’ll need to pick up so that we don’t forget anything. I’ll sign your Hogsmeade form, so that you can join your classmates in the village for weekends,” he said. “We’ll also need to think about summer arrangements for you.”

She felt her face fall a little. “I suppose we do.”

“Don’t worry too much about it yet. These things have a way of working out,” Horace said. “Now I have some students come for dinner on the first Friday each month, would you care to join us Miss Granger? I can guarantee good food and usually quite lively conversation.”

“I would be honoured, Sir.” Ah…the Slug Club…

“Well…on the topic of dinner, you should be heading along to the Great Hall for yours, as should I. Meet me tomorrow after lunch in the Entrance Hall and we’ll be on our way to London,” he said.

“Thank you Professor, I’ll see you tomorrow.” She stood and slipped the letter and key into her pocket. She left the office and headed back to the great Hall to have something to eat. She felt completely lost, like she was stumbling through some dream. She was being ‘sponsored’ by Abraxas Malfoy, likely at the request of the fledgling Dark Lord. It was some ridiculous dream that she was trapped in. As she sat down next to Tom, she wondered idly when she’d finally wake up again.


	3. Chapter 3

T*R*T*R*T*R*T*R*T*R*T*R*T*R*T*R*T*R*

_I know you told me I should stay away. _

_I know you said he’s just a dog, a stray. _

_I know he is a bad boy with a tainted heart, _

_And even I know this ain’t smart._

_~Criminal – SOF Cover/Britney Spears~ _

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“Is there anything you need while I’m in Diagon Alley?” Hermione asked Tom as he walked her to the Entrance Hall.

“No…just give Abraxas my regards when you see him.” Tom smiled.

“He’s going to be there?” Her eyebrows lifted.

“I’d be very much surprised if he didn’t happen upon you and the Professor and just casually suggest he escort you while Horace goes and enjoys a pint at the Potioneer’s Club,” he said. “He won’t be able to resist sizing you up in person, so don’t be too terribly surprised.”

“Do I need to worry about him?” she asked, not sure what to expect from Lucius Malfoy’s father. He’d been bad enough, she shuddered to think what the man that had raised him was like. 

“Yes and no.” Tom chuckled. “He won’t lay a hand on you, he wouldn’t dare, but he will try and find things to use against you at a later date should he need to,” he said. He loved that about Abraxas, the man was almost as good at judging a person’s weaknesses and flaws as he was.

Hermione nodded and straightened her borrowed robes. “Well, I’ll see you later this evening,” she said politely.

“Be good,” he whispered and headed off.

Hermione frowned and went to join the Professor, summoning her smile and walking with him to the gates.

“Now, since you don’t yet have your apparition license, just take my arm and I’ll get us there,” Horace said politely and offered her his arm.

Hermione held on, not stumbling at all as they appeared behind the Leaky. Over the last year she’d gotten so accustomed to travelling that way, that now it was almost second nature. “Shall we head to Gringotts first?”

“Yes, that’s best I think.” He tapped the bricks and the archway opened for them.

Hermione was struck by how little the alley had changed over the years. There were little differences, of course, but the general look and feel was much the same. She walked with the Professor towards the massive white building that dominated the area.

The Professor waited in the lobby while she went down to the vault that Malfoy had set up for her. It was surprisingly deep, and when the goblin opened it for her she blinked at the sheer volume of gold inside. He’d seriously thought he’d need to replenish it for her? Only a Malfoy would think she’d need more than this. She made a generous withdrawal and tried very hard to not feel guilty accepting it. The simple reality was that she needed money, and no matter what his motives…he clearly had it to spare.

She got back into the cart and rode it all the way back up. As she crossed the floor of the bank, she couldn’t help but stop dead. There was a tall, platinum blonde wizard talking animatedly with Professor Slughorn. It was like looking at a more handsome version of Draco, only with Lucius’ strong jawline. It was frankly eerie.

“Ah, here she is. Miss Granger, come and let me introduce you to…”

“Lord Abraxas Malfoy,” Hermione finished smoothly. After all, who else could he possibly be? “Forgive me, the resemblance to the Lord Malfoy in my time is…striking,” she said.

Abraxas grinned and reached for her hand, pressing a polite kiss to it. All the while, his striking silvery blue eyes remained locked on hers. “Malfoy genes do tend to breed true.” He chuckled. “Were you at school with one of my descendants?”

“Your grandson, to be truthful.” She managed not to blush outrageously, but it was a near thing.

“Miss Granger, would you forgive me if I left you in Lord Malfoy’s capable hands? I just realized I have some business to see to. We could meet back at the Leaky cauldron in a few hours, say at 4?” Professor Slughorn suggested.

Hermione mentally cursed Tom for being right. “Of course Professor, as long as I’m not keeping Lord Malfoy from anything pressing?” She looked to the man beside her.

“Not at all, Miss Granger. Consider me your humble servant for the afternoon,” he said. Barely contained humor made his eyes seem to almost sparkle.

She couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Then I gladly release you, Professor,” she said and at Abraxas’ gesture she walked with him out of the bank. “I didn’t expect to meet you quite so soon,” she said as they walked down the street.

“I like to know what’s going on. When I heard that Horace would be escorting you to get some school supplies, I couldn’t resist the temptation to rescue you from his tedious company,” Abraxas said as they walked.

“He can be a little…stodgy.” She tried to be tactful.

Abraxas snorted inelegantly. “The man grabs tight to anyone talented or connected and feeds off their successes as if they were his own. If he weren’t so useful, he’d be repugnant. Tom says you’re a clever little thing, so old Slughorn is likely to try and collect you.”

“He did in my own time as well.” Hermione chuckled as they reached Madam Malkin’s and Abraxas held the door for her. It was strange, the difference in how he was treating her vs. how his son and grandson had. Just because he thought she had magical parents, or more likely because Tom had told him to be nice.

“You must be just as good as Tom suspects,” Abraxas said, hanging back to let her order a full school kit. The shopkeeper took her measurements and promised to have the robes ready to be picked up by the time they finished their shopping. She paid the woman and they continued on their errands. Regardless of how tedious shopping could be, Abraxas surprised her by being charming and engaging her in a rather lively debate about magical theory.

“You should stop in here, you’ll be needing something stunning for the yule ball. I anticipate you’ll receive a fair few requests for your company,” Abraxas said.

“That would certainly be a first,” she muttered under her breath as he opened the door for her.

“Ah Lord Malfoy! What a pleasure sir, and who is this lovely young lady?” A short, but very well dressed wizard hurried forward.

“This is, Miss Granger. She’s a friend of the family and will be needing something for the Yule Ball. Whatever she wants.” He told the man, being clear that no expense was to be spared.

“Of course, come right this way.” He hustled Hermione to the back, setting her up on the pedestal and getting her measurements. “Hmmm, I just got in the most exquisite bolt of fairy lace and I think it would look just perfect with your complexion.” He hurried to the back to look for it.

Hermione looked at Abraxas as he was sitting in a chair, drinking tea. “Will you be attending the ball?” she asked him.

“You may depend on seeing me there, Miss Granger. And might I take the opportunity to solicit at least one dance from you?” he asked.

“I would like that,” she said, finding herself liking him against her better judgement. When the tailor came back out she was speechless. The bolt of fabric was the softest blush pink, and the lace was impossibly delicate, interwoven with silver thread that made it sparkle. “It’s beautiful,” she said.

The wizard smiled and unraveled a bit and held it up against her skin and nodded. “Perfect,” he said and looked over to Abraxas who nodded in agreement.

“So many witches restrict themselves to house colours; this will be a breath of fresh air.” Abraxas grinned. He’d have to send her something stunning to accessorize it with. “What were you thinking for a design, Eustace?” he asked.

The man grabbed a pad of paper and did a rough sketch. “It’s a bit daring, but I think she’ll be able to wear it perfectly,” he said.

Abraxas nodded. “Indeed. Send an owl to me if you require her for any additional fittings.”

“Certainly Sir, please have a wonderful afternoon.” He said to them.

Abraxas offered her a hand down and held her outer robes for her to put them back on.

“Don’t *I* get to see the design?” Hermione asked, lifting an eyebrow at him.

“No, you don’t,” Abraxas said smoothly. “It’s going to be a wonderful surprise.”

Hermione chuckled. “Do all Malfoys take delight in being difficult?” she asked.

“I don’t know, you’ve known a few of us now…you tell me.” He laughed at her. “Tom’s determined to treat you like some fragile doll, I may need to tell him to revise that plan.”

“Fragile doll?” She looked honestly insulted.

“I didn’t mean it quite like that, but he was quite clear that I was to be careful with you. I don’t think he needed to worry too much,” he said. “You can certainly hold your own.”

“Yes, I can,” she said firmly as they collected her things at Madam Malkin’s. “Do you think we have time to make a quick stop at Ollivanders?” she asked him, a little hesitant to do it but Bellatrix’s wand was still resisting her.

“Oh?”

“The wand that got blown through with me isn’t actually mine, and it’s not exactly co-operative,” she said by way of explanation.

“Then we must certainly visit the wand shop,” he said, knowing all too well how important a compatible wand was. “You’ll need a wand that fits you properly to excel in your NEWTs.”

She nodded and they slipped into the wand shop. Garrick Ollivander, or at least she assumed it was him. He came forward, looking at her speculatively. “A bit out of time aren’t you?” he said, blue eyes looking right through her. “Well, no matter…you need a wand.”

“I do.” He’d always unnerved her.

“Well…let’s see what we can do about that then.” He headed back and went rummaging and came forward with three different wands. “Give it a wave.”

Hermione started with the leftmost wand, but all three felt wrong. She frowned.

“Nope, certainly not.” He muttered to himself as he kept digging and then brought forward another wand, the wood gleamed a deep honey. “Give this a try, my dear.”

Hermione wrapped her fingers around the wand and felt the power reach out to her, wrapping around her. She smiled and gave a flick, and a couple of wand boxes levitated and neatly stacked themselves. “This is it.”

“Beech, 11 and a quarter inches, with a core of dragon heartstring…from a particularly nasty Ukrainian Ironbelly if you must know.” He chuckled. “It should serve you well, seven galleons if you please.”

She counted it out and slipped her new wand away. She’d keep Bellatrix’s as a backup, this would be her new primary wand.

Abraxas considered her carefully. “Beech is a most particular wand wood,” he said idly.

“It’s not something I’ve studied extensively,” she said.

“It’s worth looking at,” Abraxas said. “You’ll find a wizard or witch’s wand reveals a great deal about them,” he said and escorted her to the Leaky Cauldron, where her Professor was waiting on them. “I’ll take my leave of you now, Miss Granger. I hope you enjoyed your afternoon as much as I did.”

“I had a very pleasant time. Thank you for being so kind to escort me.” She said in response, shocked to realize that she had honestly enjoyed his company. “I hope to see you again.”

“I think you may depend on that.” He gave a polite nod and headed off.

“Did you get everything you need, Miss Granger?” Professor Slughorn asked as he came over, a bit red in his cheeks.

“I did, perhaps we should return to the Castle sir?” she said. “I’m sure I’ve monopolized enough of your day.”

“Well if you’ve gotten everything you need,” he said and walked outside with her, offering her his arm again.

“Yes, I’m sure I have everything,” Hermione reassured him. A bit of bone crushing, disorientation later they were standing just outside the school’s gates. She took a moment, a little shakier this time. It was clear that the professor had been drinking and it had effected his talents in this area. “Thank you again for taking me, Professor.”

“It was no trouble, besides you seem to have enjoyed Lord Malfoy’s company more than you would have mine. He’s quite the charmer that fellow, such a shame he never seems to settle on a young lady for more than a season. Best to guard your heart there, Miss Granger.” He gave her some advice.

“I’ll be sure to do that. I know I’m not the kind of witch that would be able to entice the Malfoy heir.” She laughed a bit. “But he is pleasant to speak with, and it’s nice to find someone to debate some of the finer points of charms theory.”

“He was a brilliant student in charms, just finished his Mastery actually. Quite impressive for his age.” Horace prattled on about the finer virtues of Abraxas Malfoy, and how he’s pointed him to his mentor and smoothed the way for him to write his mastery exams early.

Hermione indulged him with nods and smiles at the right moments. She politely excused herself to go and put her things in the dorm. She let out a long held breath as she turned down the corridor to the common room and whispered the password. She entered, and felt a bit of relief settle around her shoulders. It was strange but she felt safer inside the dorms. She knew that she shouldn’t, but she wasn’t going to argue with the sensation. She didn’t see Tom in the common room and relaxed even more, going up to her room and unshrinking everything.

She neatly packed everything into her new trunk. At Abraxas’ urging, she’d splurged a little on a very nice trunk. It was a bit heavier in construction than her standard trunk that she’d bought as a first year. This was bound in heavy black dragon hide with silvery studs. The owner had engraved her initials in silver filigree on the ends. There was a warded section for personal effects, a standard feather-light charm, and it would expand as needed. She took her time packing things away and nearly jumped out of her skin when a silky voice said her name right behind her.

“You weren’t at dinner, I thought I should come and make sure you were all right.” Tom gripped her upper arms, dragged her back against his chest and letting his lips brush her earlobe.

“You’re not supposed to be in the girl’s dorms.” She gasped, having to remind herself not to struggle. He’d probably take that as a challenge.

“You think those silly little wards will keep me out of here if I want to come up?” He chuckled. “Quite the haul. Did you have fun shopping with Abraxas?” There was a strange undercurrent to his tone that made the hairs raise on the back of her neck.

She swallowed and closed her eyes a moment. “He was very pleasant company,” she said carefully.

“I do hope he was a perfect gentleman. I’d hate to think he was…forward with you.” He loosened his grip on her arms and stroked them down settling his hands on her hips. “I’d be most displeased with him if he was.” There was almost a purr to his words.

Hermione shook her head a bit. “He didn’t do anything inappropriate, my Lord.” She whispered the title, knowing it would please him, and perhaps get him to release her. It seemed to have the opposite effect as he turned her and leaned in, kissing her aggressively. She did try and struggle then and found herself pushed back against the wall, wrists pinned to the stone. “Please…don’t.” She gasped as he broke the kiss.

Tom kept her pinned there, eyes boring into hers. “Don’t ever fight me, Hermione,” he said quietly. “But I will stop, this time.” He released her wrists and stepped back. “Once you’ve finished putting your things away, join me in the common room and I’ll take you to the kitchens to get some food. You’re too thin, you need to eat.”

Hermione nodded, wrapping her arms around her middle. Once he was gone from the room, she covered her mouth with her hand and tried not to cry. She couldn’t get over the irony of Connie warning her about Hadrian and Slughorn warning her about Abraxas…she’d take a hundred of them over one Tom Riddle. She finished putting her things away and carefully folded her borrowed uniform up for Connie. She headed downstairs in her own uniform now, prefect’s badge proudly on her breast and saw Tom sitting there, talking with Rosier. “I’m ready when you are,” she said to Tom, her tone a little cool.

He nodded and stood, just telling James he’d be back later. He fell into step with her as they headed for the kitchens.

Hermione summoned up her courage and stopped. “We need to talk,” she said and sharply turned on her heel heading for an empty classroom. She set the wards this time, her own combination of them.

Tom looked amused. “So…talk.” He leaned against the wall.

“We need to have some ground rules,” she said. “My dorm room is out of bounds. I need to have somewhere I feel safe, somewhere you can’t just appear when you like. That is where I sleep, and I am entitled to my privacy there.”

“I suppose I see your point…” Tom looked to be considering her demand/request. “What will you give me in return?”

“When we are around the other students or teachers, I will continue to appear to be your friend and extoll your virtues. I’ll aide the illusion that you’re just a brilliant, hardworking student,” she said. 

“Not quite enough. In return for respecting your personal boundaries, you’ll appear to be my girlfriend. That should convince everyone that I am just like every other sixteen year old wizard in this castle,” he said. “And in private I will refrain from forcing you into any acts you find uncomfortable or distasteful…unless you need to be punished for something you’ve done contrary to my orders or interests.” He didn’t often negotiate, but he didn’t have any witches following him and as Abraxas had often told him witches took a very different approach.

Hermione felt a bit ill at the thought that he would use **that** as punishment, but she supposed in his mind it was no different than using the cruciatus curse on her. She wasn’t a terribly big fan of that either. “And you’ll teach me occlumency,” she said deciding to go for broke.

“Done,” Tom said and walked to the door, trailing his fingers through her wards. “This is an elegant piece of spell work,” he mused, seeing a bunch of different charms playing off one another. “How effective is it?”

“It kept me alive for nearly a year on the run from your followers,” she said. “The only thing it doesn’t block is smell. I once had someone that was hunting me stand not even a few inches from me, and all he could detect was the scent of my perfume. He looked right through me, even though he was close enough to have touched me.” She shuddered remembering that.

“May I see that memory?” he asked her, turning from the door. A little politeness couldn’t hurt after all.

She nodded, inclining her head and managing to not flinch away as he cradled her face in his hands and slipped into her mind. He was much gentler this time, coaxing the memory forward and stroking his mind against hers in a comforting fashion. She watched the memory play across her mind, standing face to face with Scabior, watching him breathe in deeply as if trying to pinpoint the scent.

He withdrew softly and kissed her forehead. “Very impressive. I wonder if there is a charm you could add to your warding to block scent in future.” He moved back, thinking about it.

“It’s all that’s missing, even as it is I found it very effective.” Hermione nodded, a little astounded by how quickly he moved between topics.

“Work on it.” he said. “Now, shall we go and get some dinner?”

Hermione nodded and dismantled the wards, leaving the privacy of the classroom. She’d put her foot down with a psychopath and rather than punish her for it, he’d accepted it and even bargained a little with her. She’d just have to be very clear with him. For the moment he found her valuable, she needed to stay that way.

They reached the hallway outside the kitchen and Tom tickled the pear, letting them in. The House Elves were happy to get the pair a nice dinner, roast with Yorkshire puddings and roasted potatoes. She was hungry and ate with a focus she would have attributed to Ron, until she realized that he was watching her. She flushed with embarrassment. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be,” he said and sipped his mug of hot chocolate. “How long were you on the run?” He asked her, a curious expression on his face.

“Nine months, give or take,” she said softly. “Things were…hard.”

“I imagine regular meals were hard to come by towards the end.” He knew what it was to be hungry, probably better than most in this castle. He could see that this girl understood true hunger. Not the little twinge of your stomach between lunch and dinner, but the gnawing twisting burn of days and weeks without enough food to ever quiet the need. They were very different, but in some ways they were alike. She knew what it was to be lonely, to feel true despair, and she understood the burning heat of real hate. She’d never let herself surrender to it completely, but it was there, lurking under her nice manners and brave front.

“They were,” she said simply, eating a little slower now.

“Once you’re back to normal…I’d like very much to see you duel. Maybe with Hadrian or James.” 

“Why not you?” she asked.

“I need to know your skill set and I’d hate to maim you, at least accidentally.” He grinned.

“It wouldn’t be the first time I was outclassed and hurt.” She sighed, sitting back…finally full.

“No, but I try not to harm those that are useful to me,” he said. “We’ll practice your occlumency on Saturday nights. No one will think anything of two students disappearing together for some privacy,” he said a little suggestively.

“I want to be able to protect myself against Dumbledore’s casual attempts to read my mind,” Hermione said.

“We’ll be able to at least do that,” he said with surety. “Not everyone has the innate talent for advanced mind work, but most can learn to erect basic barriers. It will not be terribly pleasant.” He did warn her.

“It’ll be more pleasant than having my mind ransacked and betraying your secrets would be,” she said knowing that if she ever did that, regardless of why, she would be dead if she was lucky.

“True,” he said.

Hermione shivered a little. “So I’m sure I’ll be sufficiently motivated to apply myself.” She sipped some of her hot chocolate. “Did you tell Abraxas to set that vault up for me?”

“Yes. He’s one of my ‘friends’ and was eager to assist me in seeing that you were taken care of properly. I simply had to explain that you were important to my plans, and then he suddenly couldn’t do enough. Though, I rather doubt he’d have been so eager to help if he knew your true parentage.” His eyes glittered. “He does detest the muggleborn. Something I’ll need to work on with him if things are to change,” he admitted.

“How do you get all of these people to do what you want?” she asked, always having wondered. Some of his followers were very talented, pure-blooded wizards. Why would they follow some half-blood upstart?

“It’s easy, second nature for me really,” he said. “When I meet someone, I can usually tell what they want most and more importantly what they fear above all else. I offer their deepest, darkest desires with one hand and let them understand that if they come to my side willingly it can be theirs. When they displease me, it’s the other secret I parade in front of their eyes.” He grinned darkly. “You, Hermione, want to be the greatest witch of your age, to prove that you are better than any pureblood. You want to throw that nasty little slur into their faces and make them see how inferior they are.” He smiled, it was part of what he loved about this witch. Her deepest desire was dark, driven by less than pure intention. “You fear that they’re right…that you’re the worthless little mudblood they tell you that you are.”

Hermione looked away from him, hand in a tight fist.

“Stop fighting me, and I will make them crawl to you. They’ll come begging for your favour, your approval. Men like Abraxas will fight for your affections, witches like Walburga Black will defer to your judgement. It can all be yours.” He moved over and slid a hand into her hair, cradling her skull and turning her face back to his. “Wouldn’t you like that Hermione?” he asked.

Hermione nodded slightly. “You know that I would…and I hate that I do.”

“Why? Wanting to be respected and valued is nothing horrible, Hermione. It’s not wrong to want that. Why be satisfied with less? Why let yourself be content to follow around a pure-blood and a half-blood and do their homework for them for a mere pat on the head and the dubious honour of being included. They should have been flocking to you. Brilliant, powerful, *you*.” He met her eyes and let his will press against her.

Hermione shivered in his grasp and nodded. “I just didn’t want to be alone,” she whispered.

“And now you won’t be, but you won’t need to pander to lesser minds anymore.” He leaned in and kissed her softly. Unlike before this kiss was coaxing, teasing…a seduction rather than an assault. “I’ll make them all grovel to you, if you just bend to me,” he said and moved back.

Hermione visibly swayed as he released her, shocked at how easily she’d wanted to fall to his feet and do anything he asked of her. Shit!

“And that is how I do it,” he said smugly, knowing that she was his. She’d struggle and give token resistance but he owned her soul now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Beech Wands {Pottermore}  
The true match for a beech wand will be, if young, wise beyond his or her years, and if full-grown, rich in understanding and experience. Beech wands perform very weakly for the narrow-minded and intolerant. Such wizards and witches, having obtained a beech wand without having been suitably matched (yet coveting this most desirable, richly hued and highly prized wand wood), have often presented themselves at the homes of learned wandmakers, demanding to know the reason for their handsome wand’s lack of power. When properly matched, the beech wand is capable of a subtlety and artistry rarely seen in any other wood, hence its lustrous reputation.


End file.
